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Saturday, February 25, 2006

It was a dark and stormy night...

..and I'm still recovering from it.

I happen to enjoy a good thunderstorm, but my dogs, unequivocally, do not. They'll tolerate a little light rain, but storms are to be avoided at all costs.

Butch and Kadi have gained some wisdom as they've aged. They've figured out that even if they don't have the urge to go out when it first starts raining, they might have to later and it might be storming later when they really need to pee. So now, as soon as it begins sprinkling, they come to me urgently and ask to go outside.

That's what happened a little after three a.m., when Kadi woke me up by poking her nose repeatedly into my face. She poked hard, too, with little jabbing motions. Butch was right behind her, and as soon as I raised my head, both dogs broke into a trot toward the door. Okay, no problem. I let them out and made my own bathroom visit, then let them back in the house. They were wet, which meant taking the time to dry them off with a towel, but in terms of sleep disruption, it wasn't too bad. I snuggled back under the covers and, after a while, drifted off again.

The thunder and lightning started around 5:15. Butch's approach to a storm is to find a remote corner, curl himself into a ball, and sleep it out. Bless his heart! Kadi, on the other hand, has no intention of sleeping when she's in such obvious danger, and just in case I don't know it's storming (which I didn't), she'll climb onto my bed and stand over me, breathing rapidly and pawing me until I'm awake, and then trying every imaginable way to crawl inside my skin.

Last night was only a little different, in that she failed in her attempt to jump onto the bed because she tried to jump at exactly the spot where my body was. This left her half on/half off the bed, clinging with her toenails and, once again, poking me in the face with her nose. I helped her up the rest of the way, and then she began her usual storm procedures. She laid her 65-pound self parallel to the headboard, her head next to mine, and began trying to burrow under my neck. When that wouldn't work (because I had barricaded my head with the extra pillow), she started worming her face into my armpit. (Note to any dog who happens to read this blog: You cannot breathe when your nose is pressed into somebody's armpit!)

The inability to breathe doesn't deter Kadi at all when she's in full out thunder-begone mode. She simply presses in closer, the drool from her panting tongue dripping onto the sheets and soaking my nightgown, until she can no longer hold her breath. Then she pulls her head back abruptly (which creates a sucking sensation under my arm and makes a noise like popping a cork out of a bottle), takes a huge gulp of air, and dives back in for another ten or fifteen seconds of safety. Over...and over...and over.

Kadi's her usual sweet ol' self today. I love that dog soooooo much. And I'm glad I didn't kill her in the night when I considered it.

Brenda lee, red foley,slim wilson, jt. halworth,were some of the people on the show. remember the square dancers and thier big checkered skirts. the we called the promanaders. they were on chanel 3. it is still there. my husband took me to see the show live when we were courting. we saw Johnny Cash that night. also Wanda Jackson.

About Me

My Other Blogs

On the Internet to Find the Others

"Admit it. You aren't like them. You're not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the 'normal people' as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like 'Have a nice day' and 'Weather's awful today, eh?', you yearn inside to say forbidden things like 'Tell me something that makes you cry' or 'What do you think deja vu is for?' Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the balding man who walks past your cubicle at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others..."

--Timothy Leary

My Babies

Levi

Gimpy

Kadi: Jun 1997-Mar 2011

Butch: Mar 1998-Feb 2012

The Introvert

She cared for those trinkets as if they were cherished heirlooms, rarely displaying them in public. She stored them in protective velvet sacks, drawing them out only when she was alone or in the company of those she trusted to understand why the simple objects mattered. And as careful as she was to protect the trinkets, so she was cautious about sharing her words, and for the same reasons.